


Bipartisan Issues

by chopsouhy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Slow Burn, and everyone is a little bit too dramatic, and they really dont know why, basically this is small town people with small town problems, but sue me, except that they get on each other's nerves, harry and louis have hated each other ever since they were kids, that's how i like my characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chopsouhy/pseuds/chopsouhy
Summary: Louis doesn’t know how he’s still standing. He is so full of rage that he’s certain it’s become evident on his face.“We will have a campaign that lasts two months,” Principal Waters says, though his voice sounds cloudy and distant. “There will be three debates, and then two days of voting at the end of November. Good luck to you both.”Harry reaches out a hand, and Louis looks down at it. He knows he has to shake it, so he does. The two of them smile, but they’re both squeezing each other’s palms so hard that it hurts.Harry Styles has ruined this day, Louis thinks, but he will not ruin this election.orLouis is running for student body president, Harry just wants to stir up some trouble, and people take high school way too seriously in small towns.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! this is a LOT shorter than what normal chapters would look like, but it's just a lil sneak of what this story is going to be! please let me know what you think :))

Coastal Maine does not allow for vibrant life. At least, not in the eyes of Louis Tomlinson, who has lived in between its hills for all of his seventeen years of life. Fall is fresh upon the sleepy town that raised him, Louis notes, as he walks to his car. His shoes are stepping on leaves that have melted into bright reds and oranges, now pressed against the charcoal black of his driveway. It’s a nice contrast, and only adds to glory of this sweet Monday morning.

Now, typically, Louis would be the first to admit that he isn’t exactly early to rise. Or at least, he _wouldn’t_ be early to rise if it weren’t for the laws about attending school. However, there’s some extra pep in his step this morning as he digs his keys into the door and climbs into the driver’s seat of his old vehicle.

The drive through winding roads draped in early October foliage only heightens his mood. Without taking his eyes off of the road, Louis reaches towards the middle compartment and grabs his travel mug. He takes a long sip of his coffee (he had sprinkled some cinnamon into it, because, well, might as well go all out when today’s going to be great), sets it back in its holder, and puts both hands back on the wheel.

The high school is on the outskirts of town, resting in between looming pine forests on all sides. It’s old fashioned, made of red bricks that have been worn down by decades of rain into a rusty brown color. Students are filing into the building from all sides, and Louis steps out of his car to join them. With his backpack slung over one shoulder, and a warm mug in his other hand, he’s practically floating through the parking lot.

He barely notices Zayn, leant against the wall near the entrance with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He begins lighting it as Louis approaches him, clapping him on the shoulder once before taking his usual 6:45 a.m spot beside his best friend.

“You sure you can be seen with me?” Zayn teases, the words muffled around the object between his teeth. “Out here having a smoke with the lowest common denominator on your big day, and all.”

“I’m not having a smoke,” Louis corrects, his eyes surveying his constituents as they grimly shuffle towards the double doors that will trap them into eight hours of boredom. “Besides, I’ve got to keep the interests of all my students in mind, don’t I?”

Zayn scoffs, shrugs, and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth. He turns his head so that he doesn’t blow the smoke into Louis’s face, and then speaks once he’s returned.

“You’re a clown.” At this, Louis laughs, and rolls his eyes. The warning bell rings, a sharp reminder to get indoors, and they make their way inside together.

“Good Morning Jaguars,” an announcement rings throughout the halls. It’s the voice of Janice Wyatt, the main office secretary, and also the wife of the town’s only grocer, Paul Wyatt. Louis has known both of them ever since he was born. “A reminder - there will be no homeroom today, as all students must report immediately to the auditorium while we announce the candidates for Student Body President.”

Louis is so excited that the hairs stand up on his arms. He elbows Zayn’s ribs as Mrs. Wyatt stops speaking, and the boy yelps. Louis ignores it. He ignores everything, because he has been waiting for this day for three years.

Three long years of active participation in the student government. Three tedious years of living under the exhausting rule of former President Jared Kauffman, who graduated last year. Louis was his Vice President for three long years. He has waited for his chance for so long, and now it’s finally here.

No one ever bothered to run against Jared. He was a star, a born leader (and sometimes a douche, but that’s beyond the point). Louis would have looked like a traitor to his own administration had he run against the person he’d been working under. But now? All bets are off. No one could possibly dare even put their name into the suggestion box - Louis has this locked down. Everyone in the entire town knows that he’s been wanting this for his entire high school career. And now, as he walks through the doors of the auditorium, he can taste it on the tip of his tongue.

The room is packed full of kids from every grade. The principal of the school, Mr. Waters, is standing on the stage with a microphone in his hand. Meanwhile, Zayn and Louis find two empty seats in the sea of people and scurry towards them before they’re taken. Once they’re seated and comfortable, Louis takes a deep breath.

 _Take it in,_ he thinks. _This moment is yours. You’re about to get everything you’ve wanted ever since you stepped foot into this place._

It may seem a tad dramatic, and perhaps it is. But Louis lives in a dreary place with the same faces that he’s known since he was crawling. Just looking around the room, he feels like he’s at a gigantic family reunion. There’s nothing to do for miles in this place, except for to throw oneself completely into arbitrary and unimportant projects. For example, there’s an entire committee that meets once a week in the town book store to discuss local hooligans and what to do about them. Naturally, the town has had a maximum of two “hooligans” in its entire existence, so it’s mostly middle aged parents firing themselves up over a beer bottle left in the park, or a car that someone left parked overnight.

Some people are nature enthusiasts. Some get involved in petty drama just to fill their lives with anything remotely substantial. Some people join sports teams, some run away to big cities and only come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Louis, though? He decided to get involved. At an early age he threw himself into school and everything that it means to be a leader.

If anything, he’s known for his efforts at school dances, hanging up streamers in the gym on a Friday night, or fundraisers for the band, orchestra, soccer team, or science club. If anything is going on at school, Louis is there.

Half of it is necessity to fill his time, but the other half is a desperation to make his college resume look presentable. He’s no fool - he knows that coming from a tiny “where’s that?” town in Maine instead of a fancy Connecticut private school doesn’t exactly make his application all that noticeable to big league schools. However, his grades are pretty damn high and his participation in school activities is, even by his own standards, borderline ridiculous.

But what can he say? It’s who he is, and it’s what he’s always done.

Louis is pulled out of his thoughts by a thump to the back of his head. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who did it.

“Fuck off, Harry, a whole room full of people and you had to sit behind me?” Louis can’t see the smirk across the features of his classmate, but he can feel it pushing past the back of his head and into his brain.

Louis has (unfortunately) known Harry since before he can even remember. Tall, obnoxious, rude, instigative, irritating Harry, who everyone else in the world seems to adore. They began butting heads in elementary school, when recess arguments turned into brawls. Louis remembers, clear as day, sitting on the curb of the school, tears of shame welling in his eyes, as he soaked in the punishment of not being allowed to play with the other kids. Harry, his combatant, sitting beside him, nonchalantly eating a sandwich and casually letting Louis know that he “hits like a wimp.”

In middle school they scowled at one another in art class, even went as far as sabotaging one another’s work - not one of Louis’s proudest moments is watching a 13 year old Harry put his bag down by his desk only to find his destroyed painting. Within an instant he had flown across the room to reach Louis and the two of them were throwing hands.

That time, they weren’t babies anymore and ended up sitting in the principal’s office.

High school has involved not physical fights, but verbal aggressions and just an overall nightmare of disgust, sly remarks, heated exchanges, and cold passing looks in the hallways.

“As if I was knocking people over to get a seat near you,” Harry scoffs, kicking his feet up to rest right next to Louis’s face.

“Get these out-“ Louis swats at the shoes, and Harry laughs again before pulling his legs down. Before any other words can be spoken, the principal Waters taps his microphone and clears his throat into it.

“Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen,” he smiles, his tie slightly crooked. “This morning we’ll be discussing this year’s student body president. As you all know, last week we asked any students interested in running to attend the student council meeting on Friday and enter their name in the ballot.”

Louis was at that meeting. He grins.

“And, over the weekend it was concluded that only one person entered their name into the ballot.”

Louis’s smile widens. _No one can ruin this day, not even Harry Styles._

The entire room turns to face Louis. Not one person is oblivious enough to not know who had been the only one to nominate themselves. He stands slowly, as the principal beckons him to enter the stage. There is a light applause, and Louis can barely contain his delight as he begins squeezing past the row of people sitting in their seats to reach the aisle. He walks to the front of the room, climbs the steps to the stage, and looks out at the sea of unsurprised faces. Momentarily, he closes his eyes.

“However,” Mr. Waters breaks the peaceful silence with a crushing and confusing word. Louis’ eyes snap open and he almost gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns to face the man speaking. “This morning a second nomination was given to the main office, and it has come to my attention that we did not state an exact deadline for submissions. Therefore, it must be honored.”

The crowd begins mumbling amongst themselves. Louis feels his face heating up, and he thinks he just might faint. How could this happen? Who on Earth-

“Harry Styles, please join Louis on the stage.”

Harry stands. Tentatively and with a bit of an awkward hesitation, there is applause. The brunette cheerily makes his way towards the stage, either unaware or unconcerned by Louis’s eyes burning holes into his skull.

By the time he makes it there, the entire room is spinning. Louis doesn’t know how he’s still standing. He is so full of rage that he’s certain that it’s evident on his face.

“We will have a campaign that lasts two months,” Principal Waters says, though his voice sounds cloudy and distant. “There will be three debates, and then three days of voting at the end of November. Good luck to you both.”

Harry reaches out a hand, and Louis looks down at it. He knows he has to shake it, so he does. The two of them smile, but they’re both squeezing each other’s palms so hard that it hurts.

 _Harry Styles has ruined this day,_ Louis thinks, _but he will not ruin this election._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! i'm sorry that this update took so long... hopefully the next one will come within the next week to make up for it. please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter, feedback really is my motivation to move forward with this story :) thank you sm

It’s Thursday evening, and the Tomlinson household is empty. Everyone else in Louis’s family went out to the movies, while he stayed behind to prepare for the execution of his first campaign strategy - bribery. 

Now, “bribery,” though fitting, is perhaps a harsh term… He’s baking brownies. Dozens of them, actually, to give away at tomorrow’s homecoming football game. The school’s team, the Jaguars, is absolutely terrible. They suffer embarrassing losses every single season, and yet, the student body always turns out as enthusiastically to the homecoming game as if they were regional champions. Louis may never understand it, himself, but something he does understand perfectly well is the opportunity in this event. 

As he scurries around his kitchen, cutting trays of gooey chocolate pastries into squares and carefully placing them into tupperware containers, Louis remembers something. Stopping in his tracks to lick some crumbs off of his left thumb, he fishes his phone out of his back pocket, FaceTime requests Niall, and places it on the counter.

A blonde face appears in Louis’s kitchen, looking tired. 

“Did you ask Mrs. Evans if we can keep the food in the teachers’ lounge fridge today?” Louis isn’t looking as he speaks to Niall, instead pulling his last batch of brownies out of the oven with some mitts he’d found lying on the counter. 

“Hello to you, too,” Niall snorts. “I’ve only been baking chocolate chip cookies for you for the past two hours.” 

“Hi Niall.” Louis turns around to blink at the screen, one hand on his hip. There’s a pause.

“Yes!” Niall rolls his eyes. “We can put the food in the lounge. Now check it out-“ Niall picks up his phone, turns the camera around, and points it at rows of cookies cooling on the island in the middle of his kitchen. “Not too shabby, huh?” 

Louis is about to answer, but a hand on Niall’s screen reaches out, grabs a cookie, and disappears.

“DAMMIT, GREG.” Niall shrieks. “That’s the fifth one!”

“And probably not the last,” a muffled voice replies from somewhere in the distance, seemingly uninterested in his younger brother’s frustration. Louis laughs, waves to Niall, and hangs the phone up. 

“See you tomorrow.” 

~

“You have got. To be. Kidding me.” Louis’s teeth are clenched, his fists balled at his sides. The homecoming game, as expected, is going extremely poorly. The once-thrilled fans in the stands are now quieter, as the home team gets swept away by their opponent. However, this has nothing to do with Louis’s anger.

“I mean, I saw this coming,” Zayn mutters, shoving a brownie into his mouth and shrugging. He’s standing next to a nervous, now silent Niall, whose arms are crossed over his coat-clad chest. It’s pretty chilly outside, not to mention dark, and the boys are wrapped in fitting attire - jackets, scarves, and gloves.

The campaigning had been going extremely well - students were thrilled to receive a free cookie or brownie from Louis, standing at a foldable table by the bleachers. People came by, teeth chattering from the cold, and were delighted to accept a sweet in return for a promise to vote for Louis when it came time to elect him as Student Body President.

But now? 

The table is void of constituents. They’ve all fled to _Harry’s_ table, set up by the entrance to the school parking lot - where he’s giving away styrofoam cups of hot chocolate.

“It’s brilliant,” Niall whispers, his nose bright red from the cold. He shivers once. Louis looks down at his table, covered in plates of sweets. He’s tempted to slip his fingers underneath the top, and flip the whole damn thing over. 

“Is that Liam fucking Payne?” Zayn squints, leaning forward at another person, a brunette boy carrying a large box of hot chocolate that he drops onto Harry’s table. “He’s got Liam Payne doing hot cocoa runs for him!” Zayn confirms his own question. 

“Rat bastard,” Louis spits out. He didn’t know it was possible for him to have this kind of anger in him. 

Maybe it’s because he knows that Harry can’t possibly want this much as he does. Maybe it’s because Louis _knows_ more than anything that Harry entered this election just to take away the one thing Louis has wanted since freshman year. Harry has never shown any interest in the student body. He’s barely ever shown interest in school, period. 

He doesn’t take anything seriously. He’s not taking Louis seriously. 

Louis wants to punch Harry, and his stupid, swarmed-with-students hot chocolate table.

“I’ve never heard you sound so violent,” Niall sounds slightly concerned, but mostly amused. Louis didn’t even realize he’d said that out loud. Before he can respond to Niall, the blonde is already yelling at someone else.

“What the hell, Kelly? You already took a cookie from us!” The girl, mid sip of her hot chocolate, looks alarmed and a little embarrassed. She turns to walk away, and Niall’s brows raise. “Don’t you walk away from me!” The girl scurries back towards her seat in the stands, and Niall sighs. Zayn thumps the back of his head. 

“Ow!-“

“Nice job, Ni. Scare away the students. That’ll work.”

“I can’t believe he’s got Liam Payne working for him,” Louis groans, barely paying attention to the quarrel going on between his friends as he stares intently at Harry’s table. Apparently, he’s been burning holes into Harry’s skull for too long, because the boy eventually glances up and makes eye contact with Louis.

A smirk curls its way up his face, and he raises both brows. 

“Don’t come over here,” Louis looks away, moaning under his breath. Eyes focused on the football game, he cracks his mouth open just enough to ask Zayn, “is he walking over here?”

“Yep.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut, exhales loudly, and turns around to face an absolutely _beaming_ Harry. 

“Boys! Great to see you’re out here tonight,” Harry gestures towards the game with a sweep of his hand. Somewhere in the distance is the whistle of a ref, and a collective sigh that emanates from the stands. 

“ _Holding, Jaguars, number sixty-five. Automatic first down, Spartans.”_ The crowd groans. Some parents start shouting.

“Go Jaguars,” Niall blinks, completely deadpanned. Louis would laugh if the circumstances were different. Harry chuckles though, offering Niall a nod of approval at his joke. What a tool.

“Want some hot cocoa, Louis?” Harry holds a warm cup near his face. Louis wrinkles his nose in disgust. The taller, smiling boy pulls the cup away, just slightly. “Of course, that means you’ll guarantee me your vote this November.” He winks, wets his lips with his tongue, and laughs to himself. 

Again. 

“You think you’re a lot funnier than you are,” Louis all but growls. Harry shrugs.

“Just trying to be charming. I’ve heard it’ll get you a long way in politics.” The boy turns to look over his shoulder, at the hot cocoa table where Liam is now struggling to maintain order on his own. He’s frantically pouring the warm, velvety liquid into mugs and placing them into the palms of grabby hands from every direction. Harry shrugs.

“Seems to be working.” 

“Okay you know what, Harry?” Louis explodes, leaning over his table aggressively. Zayn quickly grabs his arm and yanks him backwards. 

“Take a brownie and have a nice day, Harry,” Zayn blurts out quickly, arms wrapped around Louis’s sweater-clad biceps. 

“Thank you! I will. You’re all welcome to some of my hot chocolate,” Harry grins, completely un-phased, picking up a brownie and inspecting it. He shoves the whole thing into his mouth at once, chews a bit obnoxiously, and waves his fingers at Louis before turning around to leave. 

“You should have let me fight him,” Louis sniffs. 

“You’d never forgive me if I allowed you to embarrass yourself like that. Harry Styles is twice your size and all it would take is a flick to your forehead to knock you over.” Zayn leans back against the side of the bleachers, arms across his chest and eyes rolling. 

“Half his size?” Louis squeaks. “I’m only a few inches shorter than him!” 

“I mean, he’s wider than you too,” Niall chimes in with a nod. Louis only throws his hands into the air.

“Any other insults, or should I just send you to go pick up your warm drinks and ‘ _I’m voting for Harry_ ’ pins?” His eyes look between both of them. All three boys are silent, for just a minute, before they’re all snorting, chuckling, giggling, and then full on throwing the leftover brownies at one another.

~

The team loses the game. It’s a sad but unsurprising defeat, and the field doesn’t take long to clear out. No one sticks around very long, considering there’s no reason to celebrate. Soon enough, it’s just empty silver stands with stray styrofoam cups lying abandoned underneath the bleachers. 

“I’m gonna go heat up the car,” Zayn waves his keys in the air briefly, before stuffing them back into the pocket of his jeans. “Come with Ni, let’s start loading up the leftovers.” Niall grabs a tray, and the two of them begin walking, side by side, towards the parking lot.

Louis watches them go with a defeated sigh. He loves his friends, absolutely adores them for standing out here in the cold with him for three hours, for rooting for what seems to already be the losing side. 

He can hear them laughing as they get farther away from him, nudging each other’s shoulders and throwing their heads back. He smiles, but only briefly. It’s interrupted by a cough.

“Oh God, _what now_ , Harry?” Louis sighs. Harry’s brows furrow, immediately on the defensive side. 

“You know what, you should just give it up now,” he says, from where he had approached Louis and his empty table, hands in the pockets of his windbreaker. “I’m going to wipe the floor with you, Louis Tomlinson.”

“Is that what you came over here to say?”

“I came over here to tell you that I was looking forward to finally ending this childhood dislike we have of one another,” Harry gestures with a thumb between the two of their chests. His eyes are cold. “Because we’re letting our peers choose a winner.”

“You think I’m going to let a popularity contest decide whether or not you’re better than me?” Louis scoffs, with an unamused parting of his lips.

“Sounds to me like you’re already giving up,” Harry pulls one side of his mouth up, smiling once again. This is one thing that Louis has always despised about the other boy - he can only be serious for small fragments of time before he’s coy and sarcastic and poking at the fire again. 

“I never give up on anything,” Louis snarls. 

“I know,” Harry hums. “Hence why I’m so excited to win.” 

“Don’t you have anything better to do? It can’t only be me that you’ve got this ridiculous rivalry with. You’re an extremely irritating person… I’m sure there are others for you to annoy with these games.”

“No, not really,” Harry muses back in response. “Everyone else at this school loves me,” he stops for a moment, thoughtfully. His next couple of words are quieter. “It seems it’s always been you.” 

Louis only huffs. 

“Maybe I’m the only person with a brain around here then. Or eyes.” 

“Maybe you’re the most stubborn person on the face of the planet,” Harry snaps back. “And you’re furious at the mere idea that someone else at this school is as well-liked and well-known as you.”

“Maybe you’re just a jackass with a big ego and a point to prove,” Louis’s lips form a straight line, and he steps closer. They’re mirroring each other now, hands shoved angrily into their pockets, toes wiggling in their shoes, moving their weight back and forth onto opposite feet.

“Maybe I could say the same about you,” Harry responds, before turning around to walk away. As he retreats towards the parking lot, he makes sure to flip Louis the bird over his shoulder.

~

Louis empties his Chemistry textbook and notebook into his locker, skillfully, with one hand. He’s got a coffee in the other, wrapped in a nice sleeve. It came from the only coffee shop in town, a family owned place with a cozy feel and a nice atmosphere for essay writing late at night, when Louis’s family is too loud and he needs a change of environment. 

Today began with one of the rare mornings where Louis actually wakes up early enough to pick up something to drink on his way to school, and he's very happy about it as he takes his last sips while on the way to History. 

Drink against his lips, Louis’s eyes lazily scan the hallway. He observes his fellow students, some walking hand in hand, some lightly punching each other’s shoulders. Some squealing way too loudly for eight in the morning, some having seemingly very serious conversations. The hum of conversation lifts above all of their heads and creates a bubble of voices that blend into one big sound. Louis doesn’t mind it.

It’s a peaceful walk to class, for the most part, until Louis begins seeing flyers all over the walls of the corridors. They’re all forest green, with big white letters printed on them in a neat, pretty font. 

_Vote for Harry! A Student Body President with YOUR Interests at Heart!_

Louis rips one of the many papers off of the wall and reads the rest of its contents, smaller letters underneath the larger ones. 

_Do you have any complaints about how our school is currently run? Got any fresh ideas for a better academic environment? I’d love to hear them._

Harry lists his email below. Louis crumples up the paper and shoves it into his backpack, grumbling profanities under his breath while he does so. The boy barely walks five more steps before his phone is vibrating in his pocket. Louis pulls it out, and reads the screen.

**Zayn:** _you seeing this shit?_

Louis huffs, stops walking, and types out a response. 

**Louis:** _uh, yeah. meet me in the library during study hall._

~

“I just don’t get it,” Zayn whispers, his head close to the table and a book covering his face as he talks. The library is off-limits for social gathering. Students are meant to sign in only for work purposes, and therefore, they’ve got to act like they’re doing homework. “What’s his main goal here? What if he actually wins? He doesn’t even want to do the job!” 

Someone hisses a shush from the main desk, and the boys wince. 

“Who knows?” Louis whispers back, voice harsh and annoyed. “I thought it was a joke at first, and that he’d just sit back and let me win… But he’s actually trying. And he’s not doing a bad job.” 

“This is so unlike him,” Zayn shakes his head. “I’ve never even- Harry barely pays attention in class. He’s smart enough that he barely has to study. He gets straight A’s without even trying. He leaves school and goes straight home. He’s not in any clubs, doesn’t play for any sports teams…” Zayn trails off. “I just. I don’t even- Everyone loves him. And I’m just now realizing that I have no idea why.”

“He’s charming,” Louis blinks, without even a question. “He’s sweet and funny and charming beyond what seems humanly possible.” 

Zayn raises a curious eyebrow. “Not to me, of course,” Louis scoffs, leaning back against his chair and pushing his tongue towards the inside of his cheek. “But I’ve seen it. The kid’s got mesmerizing charisma.”

The two of them are silent for a minute. 

“Well, we’ll just have to have better, brighter, more convincing posters,” Zayn shrugs. 

“Got a color in mind?” Louis asks, sitting up a little taller.

“I’m thinking blue.”

~

Harry is mad. No, scratch that. Harry’s furious. 

This all started out as a joke. Someone, probably Liam, jokingly said to Harry in passing that he should run against Louis for President just because it’d be so unexpected. Because it would piss Louis off in the moment, and create a picture-perfect image of his annoyance upon hearing that Harry was a candidate.

But this _little brat_ has been so presumptuous as to believe that Harry had no right to run against him in the first place - as if Louis _owns_ this school and anyone who challenges his fantasy of dominance is automatically some sort of asshole.

Now that’s something Harry wasn’t expecting, and it pushed a few buttons, to say in the least. Maybe because it’s such an entitled way of thinking. Maybe because something about Louis has always annoyed Harry, always made him want to challenge him.

Well, now he’s going to get what’s been coming to him since grade school. Maybe finally, when he sees himself lose something for once in his life, he’ll get off of his high horse, if only for five minutes. And that knowledge will be sweeter to Harry than the victory itself.

He likes the word ‘brat’, he decides, rolls it around inside his mouth. It describes Louis well. He’s small, and loud, and is always stunned when things don’t go exactly as he had planned - as if the world was created and revolved around the sun up to this point to please him.

How ridiculous. 

What a brat.

“Harry?” He’s pulled back into reality at the sound of his own name. Harry looks up from his sandwich that he had been chewing a bit too violently, and sets it down against the top of his brown paper bag.

Liam’s got a brow raised, and some of the other people he eats lunch with have stopped talking to stare at him curiously.

“What? I was thinking,” the boy shrugs, taking a sip of his water and keeping his eyes elsewhere. 

“Yeah, leave him alone,” Chase, a junior with a big mouth and little to back it up with, giggles to the rest of the group. “Our future president has big issues on his mind. Let the man deliberate in peace.”

They all chuckle, and Harry rejoins the conversation. However, his anger is not forgotten.

Louis may have ruined the joke, but he won’t ruin the election.


End file.
